The chaos outside continued unabated, but inside the building, an eerie silence prevailed. Alicarde and Wrath materialized in a deserted corner of the ground floor, where the shadows seemed thicker, almost as if they welcomed his arrival.
The space was dimly lit, with cold, sterile lighting that barely reached the edges of the room, casting long, ominous shadows. The floors were polished marble, gleaming under the artificial lights, and the walls were lined with minimalist decor that spoke of corporate efficiency rather than comfort.
Alicarde's Reaper's Vestments enveloped him in a shroud of darkness, the fabric absorbing what little light existed, making him appear almost as a walking shadow. His eyes, glowing violet beneath the hood, cut through the darkness like twin beacons of dread. His presence alone was enough to instill fear, but combined with the menacing figure of Wrath, his monstrous steed, it was terrifying.